


These Games We Play in Hell

by PhilArgus



Category: Bonus Stage, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, One-Sided Attraction, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilArgus/pseuds/PhilArgus
Summary: With their already negligible viewership dwindling, Joel proposes a derivative plan to bring some spark back into the show: a Hunger Games-style arc in-between seasons. The rest of the cast unwittingly complies, hoping to blow off some steam with the contextless violence. However, it’s not long before Joel quickly finds himself in a race against the clock when a glitch in a seemingly perfect system makes itself known.





	1. The Proposition

**** In between working on material for episodes — if one could even call it that — Phil found himself wasting an incredible amount of time playing video games in the privacy of his own room, a rarity he cherished more than anything else.

Things had been reaching a new level of mundane in the Bonus Stage universe — more-so than they already had — with the gang quickly running out of even the laziest ideas to keep their inane plots afloat. With each passing week, with updates getting fewer and farther in between, and their fans’ interest in the series waning quickly, it seemed as though things might finally have to come to a head. This was something that Phil had secretly been hoping for since day one: that Joel might at last get bored with this creation and move the hell on to bigger and better things — and much more importantly, that he would leave Phil completely out of it. Perhaps that was the thought that actually kept Phil going day after day, knowing that one day Bonus Stage would have to end, whether it was by his own hands or not. Perhaps that day was coming sooner than Phil could have possibly hoped for.

Of course, predictably, Phil always seemed to hope these things too soon, and his roommate had an impeccably comedic sense of timing.

“Phil, we need to talk,” Joel said, startling Phil as he burst into the room. He slammed the door behind him to emphasize the importance of the conversation he was about to subject Phil to. “And now.”

After regaining his composure, Phil pulled himself from the video game he had been invested in for the last several hours. He refused to get up from his comfortable seat on a pillow seated on the floor in front of the coffee table, however, even if Joel was demanding his full attention.

“We’re struggling out here, but I have a plan,” Joel said. “An idea so genius, that I had to have ripped it off from something! And, well, I did.”

“Well, of course you did. It wouldn’t be Bonus Stage if it weren’t so painfully derivative. Not that that…isn’t partially my fault, either,” Phil deadpanned. Then he widened his eyes. “Waitaminute. What are you talking about?!”

“Should I just repeat myself verbatim or something?” Joel said. 

Phil blinked. He processed this question. “Uh. Well if it would h— no! Just, say it, and do it quickly, so you can shut up, and I can get back to my game.”

“What are you playing anyway?” Joel said, swiveling his body and tilting his head so that he could look at the screen.

“Well, I started playing this—”

“Your time’s up, I don’t care anymore,” Joel said. “Ya gotta front-load your information, buddy.” He turned back toward Phil and folded his arms impatiently.

Phil’s mouth hung open for a second as he weighed a couple of snappy retorts in his mind, but nothing stood out to him as particularly cutting.

Joel continued, “Anyway, I figured it out. So. Back to this whole thing. I got an idea for something new we could try for the show, try and draw in bigger traffic to our site and thus, bigger paychecks to our pockets. Which, as entertainers, you know we so desperately need.”

“Mm. I’m listening,” Phil said. “Well, not that I have a choice anyway. As in, I know you won’t leave until you’re done pitching your dumb spiel. Whether or not a camera is rolling. Sunrise, sunset. I just thought that we don’t need to actually have a script written up until tomorrow night, right?”

“That’s the spirit. You’re still talking too much. And this is bigger than just a half-assed script.”

“Okay, then can you get to the point already?!” Phil yelled, exasperated. Even though he didn’t actually care at all about the game he was playing, he was absolutely desperate to do anything else than listen to his parasite of a roommate for a second longer.

“Well alright then. So. Bonus Stage. It’s starting to get dry, right? I think we can all agree on that. After we got back from Hydrox, we kinda fell back into our old boring routines. So… We’re trying something new. I mean we have to do our damnedest to keep things fresh around here. Follow the current trends, what’s new, what’s happening…”

“I mean we already make our fair share of dated references, stuff that was dated when we were kids, Joel,” Phil cut in. “I didn’t think that being on top of things actually mattered that much. And, like — I mean, we’re on the internet. So, like, ratings and the like are a moot point. We don’t follow that structure. Or any structure, for that matter. Other than the loose standards we have and follow that allow us to feel decent enough to call ourselves a ‘cartoon.’ What exactly are you getting at here?”

“Are you ready for some intense hardcore online murders, the likes of which you’ve never seen before?” 

Phil squinted at him. “What, are you gonna like, _FearDotCom_ us?”

“Wow. I can’t believe you would even bring up that forgettable movie. I mean I know you were just mentioning dated references, but even _I_ barely know what you’re talking about, and that’s saying something.”

“What?! I get bored back here!” Phil exclaimed. “There’s nothing else to do here between episodes, since, need I remind you, you’re keeping all of us here against our will?”

“Quit being a drama queen. We’re getting off message. This isn’t some crappy movie. It’s way better than that. It’s an award-winning book.”

Phil scratched his head.

“Don’t act surprised. I know you like to read.”

Phil cleared his throat. “So what book?”

There was a pause. Joel wanted to be absolutely sure that Phil was finished, lest he be interrupted before he could say dramatically, arms spread wide: “Bonus Stage: _Hunger Games_ style.”

Phil waited a moment, perhaps waiting to see if that were all. He looked largely unimpressed. “Aaaand you are talking about the franchise, correct? Like, this isn’t some dumb attempt at a play on words or something? Or a pun? Like, it’s really just everyone eating a bunch of food and playing games or something?”

“No! I don’t have like, a cool name for it yet, but that’s my idea,” Joel retorted. He folded his arms.

“So it was totally derivative, like I thought.”

Joel rolled his eyes and huffed like a petulant teenager. “And what’s your point? What plot in Bonus Stage hasn’t been ripped off of something else? And what does that matter anyway? Everything is ripped off of everything, nothing is original, blah, blah, blah. Anyway Hunger Games.”

“That seems pointless and excessive. I mean, we already kill each other all the time — correction: you already kill each other all the time.”

“Nice syntax, Einstein. You fail school with that?” Joel said. 

Phil narrowed his eyes at him. 

Joel continued, “Anyway, Phil, if you’ll let me finish — it’s gonna be different this time, obviously. This time we’re gonna up the ante. Up the stakes and whatnot.”

“How many turns of phrase are you going to throw into this pitch?” Phil said. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop beating around the bush,” Joel said. He winked at Phil, who was now looking murderous, and possibly already thinking of numerous ways he could kill his friend. “So. Get this. Just like that franchise, we’ll be in here, filming continuously, without pause or interruption — for days. Weeks, even, if it takes that long! And when you’re dead, it’s over for you. No instant regeneration, or whatever.”

Phil couldn’t raise his eyebrow any higher if he tried. “So like, what you’re saying is, we can be done. Like, I can kill myself and get out of it quicker.”

“That’s funny. No. You can’t do that.”

“And who — or what, exactly — is going to stop me from doing just that? Or from making it easier for someone to just kill me? Letting someone kill me?”

“You see, I thought you might say that, Phil,” Joel said, his tone and expression darkening. “When you die in a regular Bonus Stage episode, you typically _can_ come back the same episode, unless it’s a death toward the end — and then even then, you come back right after, yes? Off-camera?”

Phil cast him a sidelong glance. “Yes…?”

“Well, if you die really quickly, through stupidity or your lack of skill, then you’re not gonna come back until it’s all done. And, like I said, that could take a while. Weeks, maybe. And you and I both know you can’t stay out of the the spotlight that long. I mean, come on, Phil. You’re just as full of yourself as I am.” 

Joel smirked in such a way that made Phil’s blood begin to boil. Still, the redhead mulled this over. He sighed. “Okay?” 

“Well, am I wrong?” Joel asked. “Would you really want to be a loser in this too? Knowing you’re a loser in every other aspect of your life? This could be great for you.”

Phil narrowed his eyes at Joel. “Shut up! Yes, okay! You’re right. Jeez. You’re really laying it on thick today, Joel. I would hate to think that you would just take over everything in my absence. Are you happy? I’m an asshole. Whatever. So are you!” 

He gestured at Joel to keep going, to keep pulling out reasons out of the air, to keep trying to convince him and sway him onto his side — though it was becoming evident that it didn’t matter at this point anyway. Joel wasn’t looking for feedback, he was just feeding Phil the pitch. He was going to have to take it no matter what.

Joel smiled again, pleasantly, as he walked closer and lowered himself next to Phil on the ground. He placed his hands on the coffee table and began to trace circles on it. “And dying hurts Phil. There aren’t any gonna be any quick deaths here. No exploding, no being shoved out an airlock multiple times. I’ve upped the pain factor. Way, way upped.”

Phil looked appalled. “W-what?! Why?! That’s screwed up! I don’t even wanna think about how or why you’ve done this!” he said. He couldn’t even comprehend the words that he was hearing. Had Joel completely gone off the deep end? His handle on reality was already flimsy enough as it was, but now it seemed as though he had really lost it. The violence and slapstick in Bonus Stage was already excessive enough without an extra layer added onto it for seemingly no reason. And for what purpose?

“Humanity is screwed up, Phil!” Joel shouted, slamming a fist on the coffee table. He stood up at that moment, as though he had said something groundbreaking. He started pacing anxiously around the room. “I mean, this is the bull crap they want to see! I’m just giving it to them! It’s like, the whole shebang!”

“Where is this even coming from?” Phil said. “Since when do you care about any of this? When have you ever even cared about ratings? We’ve been doing poorly since we started! We never expected anything out of this. Do you really think that this, out of anything else you could possibly be doing, is the answer to whatever dumb question you don’t even know you’re asking?”

“Uhuh,” Joel said. He decisively walked over and snatched the controller out of Phil’s hands, as though it was still a threat to his attention span. “So anyway, are you doing this?”

Phil looked down at his hands, which were still up as though he was still holding the controller. He shook his head and sighed, lowering one hand while using another to run a steady hand through his hair.

“Look, Joel. There’s something else that’s also incredibly glaring, here, and I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this to you, but I’m going to say it anyway,” Phil rambled, clearly not through with his own diatribes, his own hang-ups about the entire situation, “because I think you’re missing something kinda important to this whole… y’know… thing.”

Phil gestured vaguely at the room around them. Joel looked around at the empty space and waited for him to continue, which wasn’t something Phil was entirely used to. In fact, Phil was surprised he had even gotten this far.

“Anyway,” Phil continued, “you know, the — the _Hunger Games_ series, you read them, right? Or at least watched the movies, or whatever?”

“You and I both know you’re the one in the book club, and I don’t even know how to read,” Joel deadpanned. “Anyway, yes, I obviously know things about the series, hence why I decided to rip things off of it. Come on. Yes. Do go on. I’m sure you’ll get to your point eventually.”

Phil waited a beat so he could get emphasize the importance of his glare, but he knew it would have no effect on Joel whatsoever. Maybe this entire rant was pointless. But either way, he had to get it out.

“There’s, like, important societal, political and historical context to that series, Joel,” Phil said. He rose to his feet, as though he needed to feel like he was on the same level as Joel to deliver his grievances. “I — I mean, Suzanne Collins — she wrote it with a very specific context. It has significant messages about war and government, as well as some poignant points about humanity as a whole. You can’t just rip off a concept like that and throw it into something as inane as this show and expect to glean ratings from it, or something. That’s just — I mean, not only is it idiotic and disrespectful, it’s just — I dunno, it’s just wrong Joel, and I feel like it’s stooping really low, even for you!”

“Huh, how perceptive of you,” Joel snapped, not even waiting a moment to let any of what Phil said sink in — as though he had predicted this exact rant. “Thank you for your half-assed Sparknotes version of what the Hunger Games is about. I didn’t ask. And I think you’re missing the point, anyway.”

“But there isn’t a point!” Phil shouted. “There’s never a point to any of this!! You just — with or without explanation, you just throw me into these things, Joel! It never ends! So what’s another friggin’ week spent playing out your parody so that we might get an extra five people onto our website?!”

“So you’re doing this,” Joel said, grinning widely from ear to ear and bouncing on his heels slightly. “Because that’s what it sounds like.”

“I… I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Phil said weakly. He seemed suddenly deflated by this notion as he held his head in his hands, even though he had really known from the start. “You know, like always.”

“As much as everyone else does,” Joel said flatly.

“Meaning…?”

“Nah.”

“Well, that’s vaguely terrifying,” Phil said, with yet another sigh. “So why are you telling just me this? Are you gonna tell everyone else?”

“Oh, they’ll find out soon enough,” Joel said. “I just thought you’d like to know first and foremost since you’re my best friend and all.”

“Oh, you’re so generous,” Phil deadpanned. 

“Yeah, you bet. Anyway, I guess I’m done.” Joel walked past Phil and sat down on the pillow. He snatched up the controller and started playing Phil’s game. 

Phil muttered under his breath, but he didn’t care enough to stop him. He walked back over and sat beside Joel, his mind awash with numerous questions about what Joel’s next scheme actually entailed. It didn’t seem as though Joel could have possibly thought it out that much — could he? I mean, it’s not as though anything they had accomplished in Bonus Stage had been particularly marvelous or groundbreaking in their own ways. Maybe he was overthinking it. It couldn’t possibly amount to anything.

“So, uh… What would the arena be like, exactly?” Phil asked, trying his damndest to sound casual. He wasn’t sure why he even cared. Thinking more on it, it couldn’t possibly be that impressive. Although, Joel did somehow manage to simulate an entire universe… They had traveled in space for months before crashing on a planet in the middle of it all… On second thought…

“I can’t tell you that, it would ruin the element of surprise and give you an unfair advantage,” Joel said. He raised an eyebrow at Phil, who looked to be in deep thought. “In any case, even I don’t know what it’s like, so I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. For the record. Let me say again.”

“Okay, I get it! …Wait a second, what? Really?”

“Did I stutter, twiggy?”

“How is that even possible?” Phil demanded. “I mean, how can you not have any idea what it’ll be like? Aren’t you the one making it? How is that…?”

“Well, yes and no,” Joel said. “I mean, even with Bonus Stage I didn’t exactly create everything myself. I just program some basic stuff and things kinda develop on their own. I can’t explain to you exactly how it works. You wouldn’t understand it in the first place. It’d be a waste of breath.”

“Well that’s patronizing,” Phil mumbled under his breath. He knew Joel was right, however, as much as it pained and annoyed him. Phil couldn’t fathom how the simulation came to be in the first place, let alone how it worked and how Joel managed to pull all of these inventions seemingly out of thin air. It just didn’t make any sense. But the more he thought about it, the more irritated he became.

“And I don’t care,” Joel retorted. He put the stolen controller down so he could put his hands on his hips. “Anyway, are you done with the questions?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, just one last one. For now, anyway,” Phil said. He paused to think about the wording, as though it really mattered. “Does this… would it mean the end of Bonus Stage?”

Joel tilted his head at Phil. “Uh. I mean, I guess you could say that. It’s a way of going out with a bang, that’s for sure,” Joel said. He narrowed his eyes. “And not literally. No guns allowed. There’s not gonna be any figurative banging either, if I can help it. That’s not pandering, that’s just inappropriate and annoying.”

“Wait, really?” Phil said, tone and pitch of his voice lifting, his heart suddenly pounding at the prospect of Bonus Stage ending once and for all.

“Don’t sound too sad there, Phyllis,” Joel grumbled. “We’re running out of steam — and fast anyway. Consider this our last effort at making something of it.”

“Yeah, I mean, I was actually thinking of uh—” Phil began, but he thought better of it. Now was certainly not the time to be revealing that he had been planning on sabotaging the entire series and ending it before it even began. “You know what? Nevermind. That’s uh, a shame, and all. Wow. Damn. Really bad. So when can we get this thing started?”

* * *  

Elly awoke with a jolt, perhaps forcefully yanked out of a stressful dream — although it took her a moment to register the fact that she had awakened to the sensation of someone’s hands on her, dragging her out of bed by her ankles. Disoriented and dizzy — and also blind, without her glasses on — she flailed a bit and tried to scream, if only to get the attention of the person dragging her, but she found herself quickly muffled by her own blankets.

“Shut up!” a low voice answered her. 

She was pulled entirely off the bed, and the blankets finally came off of her face — though the back of her head quickly made contact with the floor. 

“Ow, what the hell?!” Elly yelled. “You’re gonna — concussion—”

“I said shut up!”

“Andrew, is that you?!” Elly squinted in the darkness, trying to make sense of the dark shapes moving in front of her eyes as she was pulled across the floor. She would hate to think that an episode started without her, or that this was apart of it. She was sure she looked idiotic without her glasses on, especially knowing how lazily her co-stars had designed her time and time again.

The person dragging her lazily released their grip on her ankles, as though the accusation had offended them. Elly yelped in pain as her heels slammed against the floor.

“Ow, okay, that’s strike two,” Elly groaned.

“That’s creepy that you can just assume it’s him,” the voice said. “Like, what does that say about your relationship that this is a thing that doesn’t weird you out?”

“Well, I don’t know anyone else who would—” Elly squinted harder, let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Though she still couldn’t quite make out the form of the person above her, she finally recognized the voice. Her eyes widened. “Joel?! Is it really you?!” She felt a blush creep across her face. “Y-you’re — in my room?!”

“Yeah, I would have loved to have recruited Andrew for this,” Joel said. He rubbed his temples impatiently. “But I already grabbed him. I guess I should’ve thought that one through. C’mon. Since you’re awake, you should get up.”

“Wh— where are we going?” Elly said dreamily, starstruck by her longtime crush who had materialized in her bedroom and was endeavoring to drag her to some unknown location. “Is it finally time?”

“Yes, but wait a minute,” Joel said. “How do you know that it’s time? I’m just going to assume we’re talking about the same thing. Anyway, can you get up? I’m actually pretty weak. I skipped arm day at the gym. And the gym.”

“Ugh, it’s Joel all right. What the hell is going on? Could you not have just woken me up?”

“I could do a lot of things that I don’t do. Clearly I pick the most fun ways. Even if we aren’t filming. Just to show how fun I really am.”

Elly rolled her eyes. The way he emphasized the word ‘fun’ made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn’t place.

“That’s debatable,” she said. She slowly — and reluctantly — got to her feet. “So where are we going?”

“To my lab.”

“Oh, great! One of my favorite places.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be, because you’re not allowed in there,” Joel said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Not after the last t— you know what, we’re not doing this, we don’t have time. Hurry up.”

“You’re the one being verbose, and not letting me get a word in—”

“Oh, my God, Elly, can we please?!” Joel said, exasperated. 

The two of them walked in awkward silence out of the room, into the hall, and out into the living room. To Elly’s surprise, Joel didn’t lead her out of her house; rather, he turned from the living room down the stairs into what was supposed to lead to her laboratory, a place that Joel had already forced himself into numerous times without her consent. Though she was still in a sleepy haze, she was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t going to pull some dumb gag that was supposed to mislead her into thinking he was just taking her to her own lab; rather, he really was just leading her there and using her stuff as his own. Asshole.

They descended the steps in silence and entered the laboratory in question. It was dark, impossibly dark, and quiet. However, Elly couldn’t help but feel a heaviness in the air, and a sudden tightness in her chest. Just what the hell was going on?

Joel coughed and flicked a switch beside them in the darkness, and just like that, the entire room was bathed in white light. Joel didn’t even flinch at the radical adjustment as Elly raised her arms to shield her eyes and squinted. She realized now, too late, she didn’t have a chance to grab her glasses due to Joel’s forcefulness. Normally she would have thought something like this was funny or maybe even cute because of how enamored she was with him, but this was getting weirder and weirder by the second — beyond Bonus Stage levels of weirdery. 

“Well, here we go!” Joel said. He stepped out in front of Elly and gestured at the room.

Elly lowered her arms and widened her eyes, trying to take in the room. Through a mess of blurry shapes and colors, it looked like Joel had set up a circle of chairs in the room so that they all faced center — and they were all occupied. Before she could open her mouth to speak, Joel was already descending further into the room and into the very center point that all the chairs were directed toward. In a daze she followed him, counting the chairs in her head. As she approached, the shapes began to sharpen and materialize into familiar faces. She gasped audibly and took in the sight of all of her cast mates — and even some people she didn’t recognize right away — unconscious, strapped down to chairs all around her lab.

“How did you—” she began, but the rest of the words didn’t come.

Joel spun around to face her again, eyebrows raised, a grin spreading across his face. He wasn’t about to wait for her to finish her sentence or ask anymore questions. 

He reached into his back pocket and retrieved a slim device that looked nearly identical to a laser pointer. However, when he pressed the button, it wasn’t light that was emitted; rather, it was a piercing squeal that broke the air. Elly cringed and covered her ears.

Joel snapped his fingers on his free hand as the high-pitched sound began jolting people out of sleep, with everyone’s eyes beginning to snap open in equal measures of irritation and fear. After about five seconds, Joel released his grip on the button and stashed the device back into his back pocket.

After a beat of silence, everyone began murmuring their dissatisfaction with the obnoxious wake-up call. Then, as everyone swiftly came to the realization of the strangeness of the situation in which they were strapped down to a chair in someone else’s home, the cacophony only grew louder.

Elly rubbed the inside of her ear, still hearing the ringing in her head. “What the hell, Joel,” she squeaked. “Are we filming? Oh, we must already be filming. Right? Are we filming?”

Joel ignored her question. 

“Isn’t that fun?” he said. “I actually had no idea that would work. For all I know, you all could have been in something like a coma.”

“What the hell, Joel?” Phil said, his voice thick with sleepiness. He tried sitting up and found that he, alongside all of his other co-stars, was tightly strapped down. “What the—?”

“What the hell is this? What are we doing here?” Andrew demanded. “And why are we all strapped down?”

“I had to contain you guys somehow! I guess,” Joel said. “I dunno, I guess it is just kinda fun.”

“Why am I strapped down?” Phil barked. “I already know about all this! I already said I would do it!”

“Again, I guess it is kinda fun,” Joel repeated. 

“Wait, you already told Phil about this?” June hissed. “Kinda messed up you would tell him and not me, your girlfriend.”

“We’re still dating?” Joel said.

With that cheap shot made, everyone else opened their mouths to speak their confusion at the situation as well. Joel shook his head and let everyone continue protesting for a good fifteen seconds before he decided to cut everyone off.

“You’re probably all wondering why I gathered you all here today,” Joel said.

“I’m actually wondering how more-so than why,” June deadpanned, quirking an eyebrow at him. “How did you manage this? And where are we?”

“Pretty telling you don’t even recognize the home of one of your co-stars,” Elly muttered, just loudly enough so that she could be heard, but just quiet enough so that it didn’t appear intentional.

“A little bit of movie magic is really all I needed,” Joel said. He nodded.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” June responded, narrowing her eyes. “And didn’t answer my question. And who are all these people?” She tried to raise an arm to gesture, but found that she was tied down so tightly that she had no use of her limbs. She grunted and tilted her head to the right to gesture that way instead.

“Funny you should ask,” Joel said. “I was actually going to introduce you all myself, since I know there’s a few of you who probably aren’t as familiar with our main cast and vice versa. Now, since you’re all boring and don’t seem to care why you’re here, but rather how, I’ll explain. I did some tinkering in the system’s code that allowed — well, _forced_ — everyone I wanted to spawn at this point, including most of the side or secondary characters and villains.”

Phil eyes widened as he realized who was on either side of him. “C-Candice? Michelle? How did you—”

Joel continued, “I also, uh, did some tinkering in the real world, also—”

“What do you mean,” Phil hissed through his teeth.

“Also, I don’t see Satan here,” Elly said. “Not that I really care, it’s just, you did say every—”

“Don’t worry,” Joel said. “He’s apart of this too. Although I did say everyone I _wanted_ , and he definitely does not fit that criterion.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Elly said.

“He’s just playing a different role of sorts.”

“I said I wasn’t worried, but okay.”

“So, what is going on, then?” Phil mumbled. “You already explained this all to me.”

“That’s not fair! Why does he get to know?” Elly said. “And…secondly, why couldn’t you have just put me here with everyone else? Or spawned me or whatever? Which also doesn’t make sense, and I had no idea you could even do that.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know. But uh. Well. I ran out of chairs,” Joel said. He stammered a bit. “Anyway, uh, not the point. Is anybody else wondering why you’re all here or not? Is it just Elly? Who’s not even strapped down, so she really has nothing to lose or gain here?”

“I am,” Brad said. “I’m also wondering why you brought me here just, like, in general. Like why I’m in this simulation. Why you created me.”

“Thank you,” Joel said. “Anyway. I have a surprise for you all. It’s the Hunger Games!”

“We’re all gonna watch _The Hunger Games_ together?” Cassidy said hopefully.

“No.”

“Oh, are we gonna read it then? I’m not in the book club like some people,” Rya said.

“I already made that joke earlier, keep up,” Joel said. “Although, I guess that was off-camera. But whatever, it’s still not even that good of a joke. So, no, also wrong.”

“Once again, need I remind you, this is missing a lot of context, here,” Phil griped, refusing to let go of his original point.

“This is Bonus Stage, we don’t need context,” Joel snapped back. “Oh, my gosh, can everybody shut the hell up? I probably should have thought to tape everyone’s mouths shut or something, because this is already getting out of hand.”

At that moment, everyone began protesting at once, as though it made them feel better to drown Joel’s voice out with the cacophony of whining. Joel rolled his eyes at them and let everyone run out of steam, which admittedly didn’t take long. Nobody really had anything of substance to say that wasn’t something he had heard a million times over.

“Alright then, can we move on? Ya babies,” Joel said.

“Okay but like, I have a question,” Andrew piped up.

“Shoot,” Joel said.

“What, so like, we all just get to kill each other for no reason?” Andrew said. “I’d love to take a swing at Phil, since I didn’t get to the other day. When he tried to steal my girlfriend.”

Phil huffed. “I did no such thing. Plus I can still easily take you.”

“Save it for the battlefield, you babies,” Joel said. “You’ll have ample time for trash talk when you’re murdering each other out there.”

“But why? I’ve never killed anyone here,” Cassidy said. “Aren’t I at a slight disadvantage? You know, compared to the others?”

“Babe, I think you’ll do just fine,” Andrew said. Him and June exchanged glances.

“Alright, are you guys done?” Joel said, an edge of irritation entering his tone. “Any more questions?”

“Yeah, me,” Phil said. “I hate you.”

“Okay, awesome. Great,” Joel said. “I think I should tell you now that you actually all have a word limit, so you should choose wisely. They were all randomized, but none higher than a certain amount on the lower range, so if you go over it, then you’ll get shocked. Possibly electrocuted. I’m not sure.”

Everyone gasped.

“That is… incredibly vague,” Phil said.

Joel continued, “Now, I’d maybe advise you like… Wiggle your limbs if you really wanna talk out of turn? Would that work? And if you agree or disagree with something, I guess you can nod or shake your head accordingly. But I’m not really keeping track of anything. That’s just for your own benefit. Because let me make it clear: I don’t care. I don’t… care.”

“Yeah no, I’m not doing that,” June said. “I’ll just be careful. Here’s my first question: What the hell is going on?!”

“I just told you!” Joel shouted. He folded his arms, tapping one foot impatiently. “The Hunger Games: Bonus Stage Style!! Nobody seemed to really care or react that much to that, since somehow you’re all more concerned with how much you can run your yaps before you get painfully shocked. Now _be excited!!_ ”

“You know, that does sound kind of fun,” Cassidy said quietly. Joel tilted his head at her. She paused a moment to ponder her words and pick them carefully, in case she was getting closer to her designated word count. “Uh, you know, if we’re doing some sort of roleplay.”

“Okay so, here’s the deal,” Joel said. “I’ll make this brief. We are entirely and exactly stealing the Hunger Games format to pander to our audience and to have a little fun. I know we’ve been working hard to get material together for our next and final season, and sometimes creativity can run a little dry. So, while it may seem excessive, this was my master plan. Now please clap.”

Rya rolled her eyes. “It is excessive. This is stuff we already do all of the time.”

“Why do you all keep saying that?! I don’t know what webshow you think you’re watching or — or living in, or whatever,” Joel said. He was as irritated as he was flippant. “But this is gonna be way better than everything we’ve ever done. This is gonna be real. So, I guess let that sink in, or whatever.”

“And to be clear, we… have to participate?” Jessica asked, sheepishly.

Joel nodded sagely. 

“So, I’m gonna take a moment to go around and introduce everyone,” he said. “It’ll just be way easier if I just do that instead of having everyone waste time with introductions. I mean, come on. This isn’t the friggin’ first day of class or something. This is a goddamn _Reaping_ , Joel Dawson-style.”

“I mean… Is that much even really necessary?” June asked. “I mean, we pretty much know who everyone is already. And I’m pretty sure the audience does too. And… I don’t even think it matters.”

“Oh, it’ll matter when this airs and inevitably gets archived,” Joel said. “People are gonna wanna watch and re-watch this one, share it with their kids, and so on and so forth. Y’know, in the spirit of the Hunger Games.”

“Again, zero historical context, but whatever,” Phil muttered. “You do you.”

“Alright, so obviously, we have me,” Joel said, gesturing at himself. “I’m Joel. You know, the star of the show. The brains and the brawn. And the genius behind this entire… thing. Yes. Good. You know me. Excellent. Moving on. We’ve got Elly, too. This is her house, and you know her as the… I dunno. The annoying one? I guess? I don’t really care.”

Elly narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms. “You know, I don’t have a word limit too, do I? You can’t exactly stop me from throttling you either way.”

Joel turned away from her and pointed at the person seated directly in front of him, which was Phil. “And this ugly little mug is Phil, your other favorite, I guess. I mean like, he’s the deuteragonist and all. Can’t exactly go wrong with that.” He swiveled a little to point beside him. “And beside him is Candice, his lovely ex-girlfriend you all probably know from High Score, though if you don’t, I wouldn’t recommend going to look for it. On his left — uh, I guess it’s his right, but stage left — is Michelle, his other ex.”

“I thought she was dead,” Elly said. “I mean, not that I really care. Like I’ve said.”

“No,” Michelle said, shaking her head furiously. “Not really! That was just their stupid joke they made after we had broken up—”

“Yeah, you’ve been talking too long,” Joel cut in. “Anyway, next to Candice, we got Rya, the other robot, I guess.”

Candice’s mouth hung open for a second before she protested, “I’m not actually a robot—”

“Rya’s alright. She’s kind of a jerk. That’s about it, other than the fact that I did turn off all of her built-in modifications so she can’t just gun you all down. And then next to her is Andrew, which, forget about it. I barely know who that guy is,” Joel said. “So I’m sure the rest of you probably care just as little, if not an even more negligible amount.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Figures. I probably care about you even less than you care about me.”

Joel scoffed. “I don’t think you can quantify it that way. Anyway, June’s next to him, and we all know her as the director of sorts. Or something. I don’t know. She’s not really on-screen a lot, which is totally fine by me.”

June glared hard at him, but said nothing. Elly giggled into her hands, then avoided June’s subsequent gaze as it was shifted onto her.

“Next to her, of course, is uh…” Joel paused. He stared at the cast member before him, wracking his brain. “Uhhh.”

Cassidy looked at him expectantly, hopeful but ready to be disappointed at any moment, knowing how the rest of the introductions have gone so far.

“Okay, I know your name isn’t really Hat Boy,” Joel said, “But it might as well be. Even though you’re not actually wearing your hat right now, which is weird. You look naked.”

“It’s Cassidy,” she said, frowning. “Not a boy. In any capacity.”

Some bouts of anxious laughter erupted from some of the others. Cassidy could feel her face growing hot from embarrassment. Elly suppressed some more giggles in spite of herself. 

“Jessica is right next to her,” Joel continued. “She’s Phil’s hot mom. Like a lot of you, she’s here against her will, also. And I don’t mean right here in this moment, I mean the entire simulation as a whole.”

If Jessica could have shrugged comfortably in a way that would have properly conveyed her nonchalance, she probably would have. She didn’t seem to be invested in what was going on either way.

Joel cleared his throat. “Man, I’ve been talking way too long. Normally that’s not an issue, but it gets boring having no one to riff off of.”

“And normally I’d love to cut in and remind you just how obnoxious you are,” Phil piped up, “but I’m really tired and would rather just get this over with. Plus I’m supposed to like, watch my word count or whatever. I don’t actually care that much at this point.”

Joel exhaled. He continued, “That right there next to Jess is Craig, the… Farmer or… Stoner or… Actually, wait, what exactly is his shtick again?” 

He gestured around himself, as though opening up a public forum to workshop to figure out what exactly was Craig’s deal. Nobody took the bait. He expected as much.

“Then we got Brad, little twerp who ruined my box,” Joel said. He narrowed his eyes at him and moved on quickly. “Rya and Craig’s son Rygar, which… I mean, I don’t even really wanna think about how that’s possible, and I especially don’t want to think about how I managed to find him after Rya consumed him like some sort of praying mantis — is it praying mantises that eat their mates or whatever? I guess it’s kind of the same thing. But the point is, Rygar is here, and much like his mother, he probably would be able to annihilate you all in one go if I hadn’t have disabled all of his built-in weapons. He’s gonna be stuck with regular hand-to-hand combat like the rest of you.”

Phil exhaled as though he had been holding onto his breath for quite some time. “Okay, that was an actual, legitimate question I had, so thanks for that.”

“I mean like, whatever gets us out of this faster, but whatever,” Elly retorted.

“Next we got Slim, which I don’t really know how he isn’t able to escape his restraints, since he’s a slime monster or something, but whatever,” Joel said. 

Slim raised an eyebrow at him.

“Then we got both of the asshole Tandy Brothers, one and two,” Joel said. He sighed. “Thomas and… Tyrone, respectively, I guess. I didn’t even know I knew their names. Because honestly? Not super excited about these guys. But I was kinda scraping the bottom of the barrel here. Y’know, we don’t actually have that many people at our disposal for this, so I kinda had to take what I could get, y’know?”

“You’ll live to regret that remark,” Tyrone muttered.

“I think you mean he’ll die,” Thomas piped up. “Because we’re going to specifically be responsible for your death and undoing!”

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Joel said. “I wasn’t the one taken down by the likes of Will Ferrell. And that wasn’t even really him, you know.”

The Tandy Brothers gasped.

“Then next to them, we got Tim, who is definitely my best friend,” Joel said. 

“Um,” Tim said.

“Look, man. We’re sorry about all the trans-misogyny from before. From the bottom of my heart. And I mean that completely unironically. You’re still an equal target like everybody else, though,” Joel said.

Tim stammered, “O-oh, thank you, Joel. That really means a lot t—”

“Shut up. We also got Keen over there,” Joel said. “To be honest, I don’t really know what his deal is. He changes jobs more than I change my underwear, which probably says more about me than it does about him.”

Most of the main cast exchanged horrified and disgusted glances with each other.

“Mr. Malice is next to him,” Joel said. “He’s… Um. A… Zombie skeleton, I guess. I don’t really get it, but I also refuse to get it. I hate that guy. Then we got somebody that I hate even more, which is Stomach King.”

“I was waiting for my chance to talk,” Stomach King broke in, looking smug that he seemed to at last finally get a slice of the limelight. 

“Well, that has yet to be seen, buddy,” Joel said. “You’re lucky you even get to be apart of this in the first place, but like I said earlier, I don’t have a ton of people at my disposal.” He shifted gears and pointed to KOKOR, who was seated beside him. “And then there’s that guy. You know, the one with the cup; or rather, the one who is completely useless without it. He’s gonna be able to take that into the arena, so I should say that’s a pretty big weak point of his right there.”

“What?!” KOKOR yelled.

“Wait a second, are you allowed to do that?” Elly asked. “Wait, nevermind. Don’t answer. I forget that it’s a really bad habit of mine to keep asking questions that have answers I absolutely do not care about.”

“Yeah, and while you should get that checked out, I appreciate it,” Joel said. He smiled, closed his eyes and nodded at her. “Keep making me proud.”

“Uh, thank you?” Elly said. “So, who is that supposed to be next to KOKOR?”

Joel whirled around and huffed at her. “Well give me a second, woman! That’s obviously Dave, KOKOR’s lackey! I mean we should all know that, even if you haven’t been around.”

“I actually prefer the term assistant,” Dave piped up. “I don’t really like to think of myself as someone who lacks things. And, um, well, I’m usually doing things that one would find in any ‘assistant’ job description, only I’m paid significantly less. Wait, do I get paid at all?”

“Okay,” Joel said.

Dave looked over at KOKOR, who didn’t at all seem interested in answering, if only for the fact that he was not in the mood to be electrocuted.

Elly tried her hardest to suppress a yawn.

These were a lot of characters she could hardly recognize, but just the fact that it seemed like so many of them had appearances when she wasn’t around was getting under her skin. It wasn’t her fault that Joel cut her out of everything.

“Alrighty, moving on. And then there’s Malcolm,” Joel said. “My favorite guy. For those not in the know, he is yet another robot of mine. Since I’m awesome. Machine Automated Leadership-colm. He has not had nearly enough screen-time as of yet, so I’m excited for what this next arc will bring.”

There were some groans of annoyance and disapproval, but Joel ignored it all and pressed forward. “And finally, finally we have this guy,” Joel said, gesturing at the last character in the seat next to Malcolm.

“Um, who is that?” June said.

“It’s none other than Shipmaster Greg!” Joel said excitedly. He waved his arms about in an attempt to rile up some excitement from the rest of the cast, but once again, nobody really seemed to want to take the bait. “Man, what is wrong with you guys? I was expecting some sort of reaction.”

“I’m… Sorry, I’m just— I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before?” Phil said. He laughed, albeit nervously. 

“Uhhh… What do you mean?” Joel asked, stumped by his co-star’s milquetoast reaction.

Phil sighed. “I mean, there’s a lot of random people who pop up now and again, and one-off characters, but I really can’t remember this guy. I mean — he’s the master of a ship? What?”

Joel took a good look at Greg, who looked joyful as ever to be included in this segment. Joel scratched his head. “Uh, well… You know, I might have accidentally included this guy in here a little prematurely. Y’see, there is a plot I was working on for — for next season, that uh…” 

He glanced over at Cassidy, who looked disinterested in what was going on. Then he looked back at Phil, who was still waiting for an answer of some sort; his curiosity was definitely piqued. But Joel was ready to move on.

“Anyway, that about wraps up the introductions,” Joel said. “Man, that took a lot out of me.” He bent over and snatched a bottled water that had apparently been near his feet on the floor. “Y’know, it’s tough being a comedian, but it has its perks, like free bottles of water. Now, if there’s any other erroneous comments before I open up Q&A—”

“Asshole, you forgot me,” a voice rang out.

Joel spun around to face the woman seated between Greg and Candice. Everyone seemed to be looking nervously at her. Joel furrowed his brow at her. 

“Ah yes, of course. The ex-wife,” he said.

“How the _hell_ did I get here?!” Sasha yelled, struggling against her restraints.

Everyone continued staring at her fearfully, not at all expecting the sudden outburst from someone that none of them had ever seen before.

“You… You have an ex-wife?” Phil exclaimed, breathlessly. His head was already reeling enough from the gravity of the situation (surrounded by two exes of his own, no less) without needless romantic drama slathered carelessly on top of it all.

“I demand to know how I got caught up in this,” Sasha barked.

“Easy now, Sasha,” Joel said. He narrowed his eyes at her again. “Be mindful of your word count.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she hissed through gritted teeth. A loose tuft of hair fell across her face while she struggled, and she puffed it angrily away, glaring at Joel through wild eyes. 

“I should ask you why you’re here, actually,” Joel said. He grinned. “I mean, you’re the one who I caught sneaking around out there when I was recruiting everyone. Or I guess I should say ‘reaping.’ Which I did say. I already did say that, you know.”

“You. Trapped me,” Sasha snarled. “You asshole.”

“Again, you were the one infiltrating my webtoon, hiding out between my episodes.”

“I was actually doing research, you nimrod. I was trying to ask you for your help,” Sasha said. She inhaled sharply, trying to control her breathing. “You see… There’s something going on, on the outside—”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” Joel said, waving her off.

“I mean, this could be relevant to all of this, I mean, I don’t know what kind of tinkering you’ve been doing,” Sasha said. She suddenly sounded very strained, almost panicked; her anger had successfully melted away in lieu of fear. “But there’s something strange going on with other webcomics that are bleeding into our real, physical bodies, and—”

“Man, you really weren’t listening about that word count, were ya?” Joel said. He pulled yet another device out of his pocket that resembled a television remote. He held it up to everyone. “I could cut you off now with this.”

“Maybe you should listen to her, Joel,” Phil said, “I mean, it sounded serious… Way more serious than anything else that’s going on now.”

“Wait a damn minute!” Elly cried.

She marched over and joined Joel at the center of the circle. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Joel blinked at her. “What?”

Elly sighed. “I just needed a dramatic moment, to move away from the ex drama here that I don’t care about. Look, Joel, you gathered us here, and you’re the one who coded everything, and just… You basically created this entire thing from scratch. So like, if you’re the one mostly running things, how do we know you’re not cheating? Or rigging it in your favor or — or even against someone else?”

“Well, if I die, I’ll be able to come back and work on things from the outside, so to speak, but I won’t really be able to have my hands directly involved, even then. I’d just be able to manage the website. But for the most part, the server should be fine running on its own. I’ve been doing my own testing for it, and nothing has really screwed up majorly thus far.” Joel smiled. “So, in a roundabout way of answering, no. I can’t really rig it. No more than anything else, anyway. There’s no scripts. No outlines. Nothing.”

“And just how are we supposed to trust you?” Andrew said, casting Joel a sidelong glance. “You haven’t done anything for us in the past.”

“I mean, you’ll see for yourself,” Joel said, with a shrug. “You’re just gonna have to trust me. And I mean, if you don’t, it’s really no skin off my nose. The fact of the matter is that you’re gonna be stuck in this simulation no matter what you do. So whether or not I’m actually rigging it doesn’t really matter in the end, now does it?”

Everyone looked vaguely horrified for a second, but it was par for the course.

“Can I just say something? After thinking about… This is actually the best idea you’ve had in a really long time,” June said. “Maybe even ever, since I’m not usually fond of your ideas. I mean, you’re giving characters who may not have had chances to really shine. They’ll finally be able to prove themselves.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just not super clear on what exactly needs proving, here?” Phil said, the pitch of his voice rising alongside his sheer exasperation.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Andrew growled. “You’re not the one who’s had entire plots written out of the script and screen-time cut unnecessarily.”

“What do you even mean? We all have, to some extent,” Phil said. “I mean, sure, it’s… Been on the whole… Disproportionately you guys getting things cut out, but still. We all have to deal with our ideas being thrown out every now and then. I know I do. It’s just the nature of it. It’s not even like any of that has ever really mattered to you guys before. So why the sudden fuss now?”

“Methinks you just haven’t been paying attention, Mr. Argus,” Elly hissed. She folded her arms and turned away from him. “Since, you know, we haven’t had the chance to even complain onscreen.”

Others murmured in timid agreement, which gave Elly the resolve to turn back around and stick her tongue out at Phil, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“So it’s settled, then!” Joel said excitedly. “This is a thing that’s happening!”

“I mean, we don’t have much choice in the matter, like has already been stated a million times, but it sounds like we could really make something positive out of it, and that’s more than I can say about the rest of the series,” Cassidy said.

“Oh please, like you’d even know,” Elly scoffed.

“No, that’s what I mean! It’s like June said, this is going to be my chance,” Cassidy continued. “And it’s not even just for me, but for everyone. I’m here for every side character and villain that feels like they haven’t gotten enough time.”

“Yeah! I know I’d love better representation,” Candice said. “I mean, look at us! Especially us women, us ex-girlfriends! We’re not just some throwaway joke! We’re well-rounded characters!”

“Okay, no, I wouldn’t go that far,” Cassidy said, “I mean, you weren’t even meant to be on the show, were you?”

Candice gave Cassidy a prolonged once-over, and then stared into her eyes for a good moment before she responded, “I’ll remember that on the battlefield. And don’t think I’ll be merciful just because we’re both women.”

“I never would have thought that, but okay,” Cassidy said. She wasn’t fazed by this intimidation by someone who was apparently one of Phil’s ex-girlfriends.

“Man, we’ve sure let this carry on,” Tim piped up, out of nowhere. 

Everyone quieted themselves at once to look at him, intrigued by such a secondary character taking a stand and saying something without being prompted.

Tim continued, “No one’s even been electrocuted so far. I’m pretty surprised at your generosity, Joel. But even still, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to talk this much.”

Joel tilted his head at him. “What?”

“The… The electric shocks?” Tim squeaked.

“Oh, those,” Joel said. 

He burst into a peal of laughter. He laughed so hard he couldn’t stand anymore; he bent his knees and braced himself on them for support. When he was finished with his uncalled-for mirth, he wiped his eyes and came face-to-face with an entire room full of glares.

“That? Oh, man, I was totally just kidding,” Joel said. “There was no word limit. I just wanted to cut down on needless crosstalk.”

With that, everyone let loose to flail, shout, and argue with each other, perfectly on cue. Joel straightened himself and raised his arms up in his own way of saying, _Told ya so._

When there was a break in the din, Joel said, “Anyway, standard rules and regulations apply, I guess. As it were. If there’s no other questions, I think I’ll oblige an earlier question that was, um… Had. Or something.”

He walked out of sight for a moment, past Elly and the rest of the crew to go digging around in one of her closets. Elly huffed at him in annoyance, but she knew there was no use in going after him. After about thirty seconds of him throwing things around and yelling in confusion, however, the crowd of misfits began to get unruly yet again. 

“Just what the hell are you doing in there?!” June shouted after him.

As if on cue, Joel stumbled out immediately after, carrying a huge box that he could hardly see over. He nearly tripped down the stairs just trying to get it down to the center of the room again. He dropped it with a loud thud that made some of his cast-mates cringe and made Elly move to cover her ears again.

“Another car again, huh?” Brad said drily. Nobody laughed.

Joel glared at him and started digging through it. He started throwing its contents — seemingly all DVDs and CD-ROMS — around at everyone, narrowly missing them every time without fail. That didn’t stop people from gasping and cursing at him, however.

At last he seemed to extract what he was looking for all along — _The Hunger Games_ , on DVD. Cassidy (and a few others) gasped in excitement.

“Yes, that’s right,” Joel said, proud of himself as ever, “I decided to oblige and put the movie on for you guys as entertainment. It’s not Blu-ray though. So that’s lame, _Elly._ ”

He gave her a look. She shook her head.

Joel disappeared again to wheel in an outdated entertainment center and popped the DVD in. While he did that, he had Elly pass out packets of summaries he had printed off of Sparknotes. Once the movie was completed, Joel quickly set on the task of unstrapping everyone from their chairs.

“Oh, _now_ we’re free?” Andrew said, stretching his aching body.

“Okay, was it really necessary to keep us tied up for that?” Phil scowled, sitting up and rubbing furiously at his arms. “It’s not like any of us were gonna go anywhere.” 

Joel looked at him for a moment. After a beat, Phil sighed. 

“Y’know what… Nevermind, Joel. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to ask. I should just be thankful you even did this much.”

“I kind of forgot you guys were stuck there, yeah,” he said. He kept on message. “Anyway, now that that’s over and done with, you’ll all have the day tomorrow to train in whatever way you know how. So I advise you all rest up. Oh, and no trying to escape or anything — I’ve made it so you guys can’t leave the suburbs of Charismaville. Which, admittedly, is all there is of Charismaville. God, we’re boring. With that, I’m tired of talking, but most of all I’m tired to talking to all of you. And seeing your faces. Some of which I’m hoping to personally be responsible for killing.”

Phil rolled his eyes. He wasn’t the only one to do so, either.

“I bid you all goodnight,” Joel said. “Now get out of here.”

Elly cleared her throat. “And, uh, yeah, Joel… You can leave too. Since this is still my house and all. And you’re all in my lab… That I specifically try to keep people out of…”

Nobody was listening to her; rather, everyone was shuffling quickly by her, not taking care of anything around them. By the time the entire crowd had disappeared, Elly was staring bleakly at a lab covered in overturned chairs and miscellaneous DVDs that Joel had thrown absolutely everywhere.


	2. Reluctant Beginnings

**** When the so-called meeting had adjourned and everyone had disbanded from Elly’s place of residence, people found that Joel had not been kidding about their being unable to leave the suburbs of Charismaville; in fact, Brad found himself getting a nasty shock to his hand just for trying. He had wandered past the two stretches of houses that were mostly unoccupied and peered into the horizon, knowing there wasn’t much beyond, but still wanting to try. When he had approached the end of the street marked with an ill-placed stop sign, after wondering vaguely if Joel knew the actual purpose and functions of traffic signals, he thought he heard a faint buzzing noise and a sudden fuzziness in the vision of the horizon — like he were seeing the glitches in an otherwise invisible barrier. Curiously, he had lifted a finger to try and touch it, and in the next moment he was on the ground in searing pain. Apparently he had screamed, and apparently people had heard him, because when he came to, there were people standing over him and staring at the barrier in confusion. No one else tried to touch the barrier.

“What was he expecting?” someone had said. “I mean, unless maybe he thought it was just gonna be solid.”

“Pure sadism,” someone else said.

Brad had been too dazed to really decipher who said what. He couldn’t even be sure if he would have recognized them anyway.

The next day, everyone was still surprised to find that Joel had really kept his word — there really _were_ various obstacle courses set up on the outskirts of the neighborhood, in varying levels of intensity. At first, everyone seemed tentative to utilize them, as the reality of the situation still seemed to be sinking in for some of them; in fact, people like Jessica and the assuming Dave hoped this was simply all a cruel joke of some sort, the likes of which Joel would come to reveal only at the very last second. If anything, this even showcased Joel for the puppet-master he really was and had been all along, but it was easier to ignore when the day-by-day was as wacky and random as it seemed.

One of the places set up included target practice, for those inclined to use a bow and arrow. Some of the side characters fumbled awkwardly with this, never having had the opportunity to do much of anything, much less something as dynamic and skilled. Another station set up was for basic survival skills, such as knot-tying, fire-starting, and camouflaging. There was even a section set up for sword-fighting and fencing. 

There seemed to be a little bit of everything for varying abilities scattered throughout the area. Though for a cast of characters — for instance, like Rygar or Rya — who were so used to obliterating others with laser guns, bullets, shoving people out of airlocks or even just willing each other’s heads to explode through sheer hatred, this entire set-up was incredibly intimidating to behold. The concept of actual, hand-to-hand combat was as foreign to some of them as a good punchline.

Still, though, everyone began splitting up to explore these areas and begin their own training. It wasn’t long before people seemed to be forming tentative groups, if only to size each other up and see what different people were good at — or bad at.

Phil’s ex-girlfriends and Sasha were one of these groups. Michelle and Candice had been especially suspicious of Sasha from the get-go, and had agreed to check her out together, even though they had a predictable mutual dislike toward each other from the start. The two approached her picking up the bow at the area for target practice. She was inspecting the tools thoughtfully as the two of them approached, their gazes burning into her back. 

“Hey… Sasha, was it?” Candice asked.

“So you two dated Phil, huh?” Sasha said over her shoulder, nonchalant. She seemed to be filing away as much as she could. Or maybe she just knew more than she would ever let on. In either case, it was evident to the both of them that she wasn’t one to mince words.

“Um, I guess so,” Michelle mumbled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t know him that well, I’m afraid,” Sasha responded. “He didn’t even know about me, if you can believe that. Joel and Phil were childhood friends, but the two of them had been estranged for years.”

Michelle and Candice exchanged glances. They both seemed unsure and a little suspicious of her being open. Not only that, it wasn’t in a friendly way; rather, it was infuriating to them in that it seemed more like she was just talking to herself and didn’t care who might overhear. If she was already coming off calculated, it certainly wasn’t a good sign for what was to come.

“Phil and I didn’t… really date that long,” Candice said, slowly, carefully, “So I didn’t know that. I just got stupidly involved with High Score, and as we all know, the internet is forever.” She laughed nervously, hoping to bridge the gaping chasm between them.

“No one even remembers, don’t worry,” Sasha said. She took aim at the target, pulled the arrow back and released. It whizzed through the air and landed just shy of the bulls-eye. “Hmm… Lucky shot. Beginner’s luck, I guess.”

She turned to Michelle and Candice, who were eyeing her carefully.

“This webtoon is vastly irrelevant anyway, girl,” Sasha continued. “I doubt anyone will pay it any mind or even have any awareness of it outside of the title, which I’d wager that in less than ten years from now the only association they’ll have with it will be of the special levels in Sonic games.”

Candice glared at her, but said nothing. Michelle glanced nervously between the two of them, feeling the tension that was building.

“You know, I’m actually pretty handy with a bow and arrow myself,” Michelle said, changing the subject. “I took archery classes in community college.”

“I see that got you far,” Sasha said. “As far as this event. I mean, you could even say your entire life has been leading up to this very moment.”

“I’m not really appreciating your tone here, Sasha. Look, the least we can do is humor this,” Michelle growled. “If we really are stuck here.”

“I don’t owe either of you girls anything,” Sasha said. “And this is just a waste of time. A waste of time more-so when you consider what’s going on on the outside.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” Candice said. “So, what, are you gonna be cryptic and vague about it? You can just admit now you were making stuff up for attention, and that you really just snuck back into your ex-husband’s shitty web cartoon so you could see him again.”

Sasha smiled delicately at Candice as she angled her body (as well as the bow and arrow) toward her. “You wanna try that again, sunshine?” 

Candice held her hands up and backed away. 

“Yeah, what was that about, anyway?” Michelle said, stepping between the two of them. “About the outside. Have you been looking for a way out?”

Sasha lowered her weapon and shook her head slowly. “Nah, it’s not about that. And… I’ve tried to find a way out, but it’s impossible. Joel’s got it all completely locked down, and the games haven’t even started yet. We’ll just have to deal with it.” She sighed. “I’m gonna keep working on it though. There’s gotta be a way to override it.”

“This is just so stupid,” Candice said. “I don’t even know how he brought us here. This has to be illegal. I mean, like I’ve said, I haven’t associated with either of them since High Score — something they don’t even reference anymore — and we all know how poorly that went.”

“Yeah you’ve mentioned that, and I don’t actually, and I don’t care,” Sasha said. “As I’ve already said. I know you probably want to keep reminding the audience who you are every five seconds so they don’t forget about you, but I don’t need it, ‘kay?”

“Might as well loosen up and have fun,” Michelle said. She smiled hopefully. “I mean, it’s just a game. It’s just a cartoon.”

“Yeah, a _death_ game,” Sasha said. “Whatever. You guys are more clueless than I thought. Listen, kids, if you’re looking for friends, you ought to look elsewhere. I’m not interested. And I suggest you two find something else in common before you’re at each other’s throats.”

Michelle and Candice stared at Sasha wordlessly, mouths agape, as she thrust the bow and arrow at Michelle. Michelle took them without thinking, and her and Phil’s other ex-girlfriend watched Sasha as she walked languidly away, perhaps to pursue another skill.

* * *

Andrew watched Phil carefully as he sat himself at the table for knot-tying. Phil appeared to be the only one there, as it seemed everyone else was satisfied with things that involved combat more than survival. Andrew studied the redhead’s expression, which appeared to be as bored and apathetic as ever as he gave an earnest attempt at some of the most basic knots he could think of. He wasn’t doing that great of a job, but it didn’t seem to be frustrating him in the least.

“Not gonna try and sharpen your combat skills in the short time you’ve got before the games, there, pal?” Andrew said, coming around and sitting beside him.

Phil cast him a sidelong glance and quirked an eyebrow at him, but his hands never stopped moving. “And why would I be doing that in front of everyone?”

“I guess you’re right, it would be really embarrassing to watch you fail over and over,” Andrew said.

Phil scowled at him as he smirked smugly as though he just uttered the wittiest thing ever. “What do you _want_ , Andrew?”

“Ah, y’know, just trying to assert dominance is all,” Andrew continued. “And to deliver a message.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “And what message would that be?” he asked. To call his tone sarcastic would be a massive understatement. “Is it to watch my back? I mean, I get it, Andrew. You don’t like me. And I don’t like you. So yeah, this is sure gonna be fun, us trying to kill each other and all. But I’d rather not posture and talk about it, okay? I’m just trying to pass some time until the games start.”

Andrew twiddled his thumbs idly for a moment, and then he snatched the rope out of Phil’s hand. He laughed as Phil gasped audibly. “Listen, asshole,” Andrew said. “When Brad touched the barrier last night, I’m pretty sure he freakin’ _died_. He glitched out for a second and then came back, writhing on the ground. I think we can all still die — like, impermanently — until the games start. I’m pretty sure Joel’s been broadcasting the entire thing, but I’m not sure.”

Phil folded his arms. “Okay. And?”

“I’m just saying, people are gonna exploit the crap out of that when they catch wind of it, and I’m sure there are lots of people dying to get their hands on you for practice,” Andrew said. He smirked at Phil again, who was moving to stand now.

“That’s nice, Andrew,” Phil said flatly. “I mean, nice for you, I guess. If you’re gonna kill me, go ahead and do it however many times you want, I don’t care.”

Andrew reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife. “Well, if you insist,” he threatened, a menacing grin spreading across his face.

Phil quickly backed away and raised his fists defensively. “Do you really wanna screw with me right now, Andrew? You remember I have superpowers, right?”

Andrew lunged toward him, but without hesitation Phil activated his shield and jumped out of the way. Andrew groaned in annoyance and jumped back himself, waiting (and bracing) for Phil’s next strike. “Ugh, that’s frickin’ cheating, Argus. I hope Joel does something about that.”

Phil deactivated his shield and aimed both of his fingers down at Andrew’s feet, ready at any moment to deliver some warning shots — and then some. “You still wanna go, _Mr. Wonderful_? If this is really all about your beef with me because of Elly, you’d better give it up. It’s useless. I’m gonna wipe the friggin’ floor with you. I may have gotten flustered the first time around, but it’s not gonna happen again.”

“Hah, I was gonna say that myself,” Andrew chuckled. “Uh, that it’s useless, I mean. Because yes, I agree with you. The rest of what you said… I honestly don’t care. There’s no point in it, now is there? Because you know one of us is gonna have to be responsible for killing her, in the end.”

These words made Phil stop in his tracks. He lowered his hands to his sides. What was he supposed to say to that? “Okay…”

“So maybe I was suggesting that we could even team up or something, try and take her out before she inevitably tries to kill us, which I _know_ she’s gonna go after you for creeping on her so damn hard from the very start,” Andrew said. “Don’t think I wasn’t aware of that, even before I was in the picture. I probably know a lot more about you than you do about me.”

“I — and for what purpose? To get us further in an already pointless death game?” Phil asked. “It’s… What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“Are you really taking the moral high ground on this one? Is that something you can even afford at this point?”

“What the hell do you even m—” Phil shook his head. Maybe this battle wasn’t worth it. “Nevermind. The point is you… You don’t seem to have a lot of internal conflict about potentially killing your girlfriend,” Phil said, raising his eyebrow at him yet again. “That worries me a little. Actually, a lot. But I don’t even want to begin to try unpacking _that_ one. I mean, I get that it’s not like, real or whatever, but I’m not sure that even hypothetically you should be taking it so lightly. In fact, I actually think I’m gonna go—”

At that moment, Andrew grunted, as though he was in pain. Phil tilted his head and looked down to see that his romantic rival had been impaled with a harpoon-like object, the narrowed head of which was just barely poking out through the front of his chest, and very quickly becoming covered with blood. At the sight, Phil inhaled sharply and stepped back again — and then moved so that he could carefully try to catch Andrew as he fell to his knees, and then forward. Phil collapsed under the sudden weight of him, his yells muffled from Andrew’s shoulders.

“Wh— what the hell?!” Phil cried. He strained to shove Andrew off of him, but it was but a moment later that his body blipped out of existence. Phil flailed his arms at the now-empty air, his eyes comically wide. He rolled over to hop back onto his feet to view the assailant, already in flight mode. “Wh— what?!”

To Phil’s surprise, it was Craig that sauntered over, another harpoon in his hand. “I guess… There’s no need… To dispose—” Craig drawled.

“Shut up, I get it,” Phil snapped. 

“Of a body,” Craig finished.

“I said I _get_ it. N-now get away from me!” Phil stuttered.

“Don’t worry… He’ll be back… And so… Will you…” Craig aimed his harpoon directly at Phil’s face.

Phil didn’t even have time to process the entirety of the incredibly slow sentence before he was harpooned right in the forehead.

* * *

Cassidy had actively avoided the rest of the cast as they split themselves amongst the different courses, not wanting to have to assert herself to get her turn at something. Instead, she decided to seek out some other cast members that had disappeared elsewhere.

She sheepishly knocked on Elly’s front door, which was actually wide open. She stepped over the foyer and peered into the living room, and the sight before her was certainly an interesting one. Elly was seated on the coffee table, her legs crossed, throwing a seemingly endless supply of daggers at targets she had placed upon the wall — pictures of her cast-mates, namely Joel, Phil, June, and Jessica. She saw, too, that Rya was seated at the sofa, playing idly with a butterfly knife.

“Hey, hello? Elly… Rya…” Cassidy said quietly. 

Elly looked over her shoulder, but did nothing more. She kept at it. Rya said nothing, and did not acknowledge her.

“This is like… Maybe the first time we’re really interacting, isn’t it? Isn’t that funny?” Cassidy said. She was testing the waters. She had always wanted to forge a relationship with the other women on the show. Maybe now wasn’t really a great time, but it might be the only chance she had.

“Mmm,” Elly said. It sounded more like an involuntary sound than it did a response.

“So… What are we supposed to do for training? Like, I’ve never fought before,” Cassidy said. She laughed nervously. She was having trouble not sounding weak, and she knew that if she didn’t persist, she’d never get anywhere.

“So, uh… Where did you find all those daggers?” Cassidy asked, bouncing a little on her heels.

Elly tilted her head slightly to look at her while she threw her next dagger. A bulls-eye. “Iuno. They just keep spawning,” she said, her tone a flat monotone.

“Uh… Huh.”

Elly continued wordlessly throwing daggers at the targets on the wall. From what Cassidy could tell, she was doing a pretty good job.

“Um, nice shot,” Cassidy continued. “So… This is just the weirdest thing. And I haven’t even been on the show that long, so I haven’t really been able to build enough rapport with everyone, especially the audience—”

Rya snapped to attention. “Yeah, no one likes you. Don’t worry about it.”

Cassidy’s expression fell. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Elly said finally, barely softer than a whisper. She knew they were already being simulcast. “It’s a fight to the death. We’ll all just have to ride it out, one way or another.”

“Yeah. I know your desperate need to be liked will override that, but there’ll be no use for it,” Rya added. She glared at her.

“Okay, I get it,” Cassidy said, exhaling sharply.

“You could offer yourself up and make yourself an easy target, get out of it faster,” Rya said.

“Okay, I get it,” Cassidy said, more pointedly this time.

“Don’t worry, I’m not worried,” Rya explained, without being prompted. “You mouth-breathers probably assume that I rely entirely on my body’s modifications to annihilate each and every one of you on a daily basis. But I’m excellent in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Eh… Okay. Plus, like, you’re a robot,” Cassidy said. “Can you really feel any pain when you die? I mean, that’s kind of unfair, but what do I know.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rya said. “Ha, ha, ha. The look on your face right now. I hope I can get a screensaver of this later, when I’m looking back at this after I kill you all.”

“Thanks for this pleasant conversation, Rya,” Cassidy said. Something inside her felt as though it were slowly snapping under the weight of everything, but she wasn’t sure what it was. And she wasn’t sure what the final straw would ultimately be — but it was undoubtedly coming.

She turned around and left the house without another word. There was nothing left to do at this point but “train,” whatever that actually entailed for her. Suddenly she couldn’t wait for the games.

* * *

When Andrew respawned in front of Phil’s house, he shook off his disorientation after about a second before entering the house without hesitation. Without being able to look at the time, he knew he was quickly running out of chances to smooth over his plans. He wasn’t really clear on what happened, or who had killed him or how, but he was irritated beyond belief and trying to work past it.

June was sitting on the couch in front of the coffee table, writing intently on a piece of paper. From where he was standing, he could see that there was a list of names and two columns. 

“Hey, June, long time no see,” Andrew said casually. 

“It hasn’t been that long,” she responded, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. 

Andrew inhaled sharply. He knew he’d have to cut to the chase if he was going to make any leeway. “I was wondering if you’d wanted to talk at all about our plans, from before.”

June looked up, but didn’t respond. She shrugged and then went right back to writing. Andrew huffed, walked over to her and tilted his head to get a better look at what she was writing, without any regard for her personal space or privacy. Without looking up again, June moved both her arms to cover it and sighed loudly in irritation.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, his voice rising in faux innocence.

“None of your business, asshole.”

“What, you’re not gonna let me see? I mean come on. Let me guess. You’re making a list of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses,” Andrew said.

“What the _hell_ do you want, Andrew?” June said. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get the hell out of here?”

“You know, that seems like a great idea, what you’re doing. I wonder if anyone else has thought of it. I sure hadn’t.”

“Ugh.”

“I mean, you seem to just really be going for it. So what do you think of this whole thing?” Andrew pressed. 

June only rolled her eyes in response. 

“Yeah, I mean, what else is new from the Looney Tunes creator over here,” he continued. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little disappointed this got in the way of our plans.”

“Looney Tunes… was that supposed to be a joke?” June looked up at him to demonstrate just how unimpressed she was. “And there you are, dropping the ‘plans’ word again. I ignored it the first time on purpose, you know. I’m clearly busy.”

“I mean, and this would have been a perfect opportunity,” Andrew said, listening but not responding, “Joel’s been so preoccupied with this whole thing, his lab has been wide open. We still have a chance, you know. We still have some time.”

“Uhuh,” June said. She rolled her eyes. “For a plan that wasn’t even ours to begin with initially.”

“But it benefits _all_ of us. Especially people like us.”

June raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to her task. She decided she’d keep working even if this asshole wasn’t going to give up the ghost, figuring he wouldn’t understand it anyway if he tried. As she lowered her arms and started to draw lines connecting certain items in the columns, she saw that her lists were starting to look more and more like a graph rather than a simple spreadsheet.

“What, you don’t care about it anymore?” Andrew asked, adamant.

“Look, Andrew. It’s kind of irrelevant right now,” June said firmly. “It’s every man for himself out here.”

“June…”

“It’s every man for himself out there,” June repeated. “It’s a completely different game right now. It might as well not even be Bonus Stage. So all of that can wait. We’ll see how we feel after and reconvene then. We just don’t have time now, and frankly you’re wasting a metric crapton of mine.”

“Well, the least we can do is work together throughout. It’ll even give us a chance to size up some people.”

June shook her head. “There’s no point in alliances. Sure, they keep you relatively safe for a time. But they all have to dissolve in the end anyway. And… We’re all gonna die, anyway. There’s just one winner. The stakes are like… Artificially high. This isn’t real life or anything, but it’s also not what we’re used to. It sorta falls somewhere in between.” 

June and Andrew stared at each other for a moment, but then it was Andrew’s turn to shake his head. “Sure, there’s no point. Not with that attitude. Besides, weren’t you the one to say that this is the chance for people like us to shine? To really stick it to main cast, who’ve been casting us aside?”

“Shine or not, it’s still the truth,” June said. “And while I’m all for it, it’ll be fleeting anyway. Now get the hell out of my house. I don’t wanna talk anymore.”

“Isn’t this Phil’s house? And you and Joel aren’t even really dating,” Andrew said. “So what the hell are you doing here if not just mooching like he is?”

June stared at him quietly for what felt like a long time. She weighed her options. In this moment, it would probably be a lot less of a mental strain if she just went into Joel’s lab and dug out some sort of weapon to take Andrew out with. But did she really want to expend the physical effort? Not to mention the fact that the asshole would just respawn and probably come right back. He didn’t seem to want to give up. 

She clasped her hands together and rested her chin atop of them. She said, exhaling deeply, “Okay, Andrew. _What_ is it that you’re dying to talk about.”

Pleasantly surprised, Andrew hopped over to sit beside her.

* * *

Phil respawned at the edge of Charismaville, with the view of the entire neighborhood and all of the training stations, which were still littered with various people in the cast still trying their hardest to train the day away. 

He grumbled. Annoying. With an exaggerated eye-roll, he sauntered over to the archery station, where he found Cassidy digging through a barrel of assorted weapons. Huh. Maybe that’s where he had found it. He peered over her shoulder, trying to see if maybe there was something in there he would be interested in. 

Just what exactly had happened, again? He always had trouble piecing things back together after coming back from death. Oh, yes, of _course_. Craig had somehow gotten ahold of a couple harpoons — and just where did he find those and why, and how did he even know how to use them or do anything, has Craig even _done_ anything on the show? He had all that talk about disposing of dead bodies, but who knows what he could’ve meant by that. Nobody really knew his deal anyway. However, the point was that he had gotten his hands on some harpoons, and had _somehow_ murdered both him _and_ Andrew. And still, he… respawned. So Andrew must have, as well. Okay, so people could still kill each other today. _That’s_ annoying. Although on the other hand, it would’ve been pointless if they hadn’t been able to test out their limits before they were made to be permanent.

Phil looked down at his hands. Limits, huh? 

With a tentative, shaking arm, he lifted his hand and pointed his finger at the Tandy Brothers, who he could see were fighting over the rope that he had left behind at the knot-tying station about a hundred or so feet away. He looked down at his finger, and then back at Tyrone Tandy. He closed his eyes and fired. 

When he opened his eyes, Tyrone Tandy had been hit. He was sprawled on the ground, gasping for air in an exaggerated death rattle. Thomas Tandy was bent over him, screaming in horror. Then he looked around to see where the offending laser had come from.

Phil ducked behind Cassidy and the barrel. Cassidy jumped into a defensive stance, suddenly feeling his presence beside her and expecting to be ambushed. When she saw that it was Phil, and that he was doing his worst impression at whistling innocently and looking nonchalant, she relaxed. She turned around and saw the scene that he had just caused, and then she chuckled lightly. 

“Uh, hey there,” Cassidy said.

“Uh, hi,” Phil said. He shifted uncomfortably before rising to his feet.

“How’s training going? Looks like you’ve been busy.”

Phil tilted his head at her and narrowed his eyes. “Um, okay I guess. I’m not too worried about this.”

Cassidy chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I guess I don’t know why I just wanna talk everyone’s ear off about it… I just feel like I don’t really know anyone. It doesn’t really help my chances, you know? I feel like I’m kinda in the same league as some of the one-off characters. The ones I don’t even recognize.”

“Yeah, well, nobody trusts you,” Phil said casually. He shrugged. “Nobody knows how the hell you even got here. None of your backstory really checks out.”

Cassidy brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked to the ground. “Yeah, I guess so. I-I mean, even though we all like, went to school together and all…”

Phil tilted his head and tried to think of it. He mostly just looked lost. After a moment or two of swimming in some basic memories (and not caring to delve deeper into some of the more horrible, repressed ones), he shrugged.

“Nah, came up blank,” Phil said. “I don’t really remember that. You’re like, what, into graphic design or something?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s what I’m studying now. I meant we’ve been in school together since… Ah, forget it,” Cassidy said. She scratched the nape of her neck. “That’s not important. We’re here now, and we’re really doing this thing.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Cassidy exhaled sharply. She didn’t seem to be making much progress with anyone, did she?

“So you’re not worried or scared at all, huh?” Cassidy said, fumbling, grasping at any loose thread of a conversation.

Phil scoffed. “Of course not, no. And I mean, come on. This’ll be a piece of cake, especially for me. I mean, I have superpowers! Even _I_ forgot about that! But with that on my side, I don’t even really see the need to train. All of this is kinda superfluous anyway. None of us are freakin’ athletes for crying out loud. It’s not like one day of training is gonna suddenly have us be ruthless killers… If anything, we’re all gonna be sore in the morning and suffer all the more for it.”

Cassidy shuffled a little bit. “Um… Well… Yeah, but didn’t you hear that Joel said he turned off all of Rya and Rygar’s modifications?” she said. She laughed nervously again. “Why wouldn’t he have thought of your superpowers? The way he’s gone about everything… I mean, his logic usually isn’t, but his planning seems airtight, and I’m not just saying that. In fact, you know I wouldn’t be saying that normally, not about Joel.”

“Yeah, but what can he really do?” Phil huffed. “I mean, I’m not a robot. This is my real body.” He paused. “…Er, well, it’s a simulated body, but it functions like a real body. He can’t just flip a switch on me or anything.”

“I guess,” Cassidy said. “I’m not really sure why I felt the need to give you advice anyway. I’m sure you of all people will be fine. Plus, you’re a fan favorite so you’re bound to get sponsors so matter what you do.”

“Sponsors?” Phil asked. He squinted at her.

“Yeah, you were at the meeting this morning, weren’t you? Right? He… Joel was talking about some of the finer details that got kinda glossed over in the chaos that was last night. It was kinda nice. Informative, at least. I mean, I probably would’ve forgotten that this entire thing is being streamed right now, and that we’re already being judged on how we’re handling the training. I never thought I’d have to be so… Aware. Aware of everything I was doing.”

Phil continued squinting at her, searching her clueless face for answers. A meeting? Did he get woken up for that…? Surely he would have remembered something of that nature. Although if pressed, he was sure he’d have to admit that most of the wacky adventures that Joel has dragged him into all generally blur together into one long, continuous nightmare. Furthermore, he was already acutely aware of his every move being watched, so it didn’t seem as though it would be significant. But sponsors — that seemed like pertinent information he should know. Why would Joel have left him out of something like this?

“A meeting…” Phil said, his voice sounding far off. He was still wracking his brain.

“I mean, I guess it wasn’t mandatory,” Cassidy said. She shrugged. “He had left a note in everyone’s beds. Then blew an airhorn into everyone’s faces. It was just some extra information.”

Phil looked at her even more suspiciously now, if that can be believed. Was Joel going out of his way to put him at a disadvantage already, perhaps because of his superpowers? Giving people extra information without bothering to tell him… What an asshole!! Surely there had to be some reason… Like that he was an idiot.

“Hmm,” Phil said. “Is there anything else I should know about? Or are you not allowed to tell me or something?” The pitch of his voice started rising as he became frantic, paranoid. “Did Joel put you up to this?! Did Joel swear you guys to secrecy?! Nobody’s breathed a damn word about this!”

“Well,” Cassidy said, shifting uncomfortably. “No. Not at all. I’m telling you, there was nothing especially significant about it. Joel came into the room — which was Elly’s lab again, by the way — cracked his fingers loudly for comedic effect, and then told us something like… ‘When you all wake up tomorrow, you’ll have a chance to have your last meal of sorts.’ He said something about not being able to pull all the bells and whistles, but you know. We’ll all get something, I guess. I actually didn’t know we could get to eat in here, so that’s pretty cool. But I guess for realism’s sake, we’re supposed to be at risk of starvation, so that’s kinda scary. I think this entire thing is honestly more than I could or should have ever expected from him.”

Phil folded his arms. “And after that?”

“Well… Then we’ll all be carted off to the arena, via Seaperson. I guess this _really_ isn’t important,” Cassidy said. Her eyes flitted to the floor, and then to Phil, fearfully. His burning gaze was making her nervous, and she was starting to regret opening her mouth.

“What’s the arena like?” Phil pressed. “Did he say anything about that?”

Cassidy bit her lip and shook her head. “No, he couldn’t say. It’s cheating, or whatever. Plus, he claims that _he_ doesn’t even know what it looks like. Because… Well, that would be cheating. Y’know, why don’t you just ask _him_ about all this? I’m sure it would be better hearing it from the horse’s mouth.”

Phil scoffed. “He’s more like an ass than a horse,” he said. 

Cassidy smiled wanly. “Heh… I get it. That’s a — that’s a good one.”

Phil smirked and then pointed in a random direction. “Ya get that? Ya hear that audience? _That_ was a good zinger, right there. Don’t forget that even under stress, I’m still funny and handsome.”

Cassidy clasped a hand over her mouth and laughed, a light, genuine laugh that made Phil uncomfortable. “Guess you’d better go find him then.”

“Yeah, guess so. See ya later, I guess,” Phil said. He looked over at her, and then down at the the barrel of weapons.

She stared intently at him as he walked away. In the distance, she could see that several side characters were advancing quickly on him, perhaps to try their hand at getting one last cheap kill in before the games. Phil obliterated every single one of them with his laser fingers without a second thought and disappeared into his house. She kept staring at the space he had occupied for a few minutes longer, until her own life was temporarily but violently ended by the hand of KOKOR, who was trying his own hand at target practice.

* * *

Joel didn’t even flinch when Phil burst into his room.

“Where have you even _been_ , Joel, I’ve been looking for you,” Phil said, panting, trying desperately to catch his breath. He hated how out-of-shape he sounded. “Have you just been sitting in here the whole time? Are you even training at all?”

Joel was surfing the internet on his laptop, his feet propped up on his desk. He looked over his shoulder at Phil and smiled at him, as though he had expected him to have come in at any moment.

“Eh, don’t really see the need,” Joel said. “I’ve done my share of fighting against baddies. Sorta. I mean, this was mostly for everyone else. Y’know, people like Cassidy, who have never picked up a knife in their damn life. A knife-less life. But anyway, I’ve been mostly keeping up on the forums. Remember how I said I was broadcasting the training?”

“Baddies,” Phil repeated. He blinked. “Wait a minute. I… don’t think you said that. But I mean, I figured. W-wait, people are already talking about this?”

Curiosity suddenly burned inside of his chest, and Phil pulled up a chair beside him. He was always interested in what the forum-goers had to say about the series, even if it enraged and annoyed him beyond belief. It was in that weird way that it kept him going back. If fans were angry for stupid reasons, his utter spite for them fueled him to keep going, and to continue pissing them off in whatever ways he could muster — if apathy and lethargy didn’t keep him from it. He knew especially well that this entire debacle would definitely be generating some hate mail, and the very thought excited him in a strangely shameful way. 

Then he remembered his reason for tracking him down in the first place, and his excitement quickly turned to hatred and anger once more.

“Hey, _asshole_ ,” Phil hissed.

“Oh, dude, I know,” Joel said, gesturing at the screen, perhaps thinking that that’s what Phil was responding to, “We’re getting a lot of buzz on the forums, and I’m not talking about bees.”

Phil snapped out of his blinded fury so that he could turn to Joel, panicked. “ _BEES_?” He sprang up from his chair and looked around, his flight response kicking in for the second time that day.

“No, _not_ bees! Weren’t you listening?! Sheesh. Sit down.”

Phil tentatively lowered himself back into the chair. “W-why would you be talking about bees?!”

“N-no, like, I’m not trying to make a dumb reference to the series or anything, like those tracker jacker bee things, no, I’m just… It’s just the forums, man, some people are really pissed off, and it’s super funny—”

“Joel, no, no, stop it. I didn’t come here for that. I was trying to like, _confront_ you,” Phil said. “When I came in here. I wasn’t trying to… Ugh. I came here because I didn’t get to go to your _damn_ meeting! What the hell was that about Joel?!”

Joel threw his arms up in exasperation, sliding his legs over and dropping them to the floor so he could spin around and face Phil in his seat. 

“Dude, I tried waking you up to go and you told me to ‘get bent,’ and then you almost punched me in the face,” Joel said. “I wasn’t gonna break your arm about it.”

“You mean ‘twist my arm.’”

“Mm.”

“Anyway, that’s… I mean… That’s stupid!” Phil sputtered. “I mean… Oh. I-I guess that checks out. Wow… That’s… That’s really lame.”

Phil cast his gaze to the floor.

“Yeah, ya sure are,” Joel said. “Anyway, you really didn’t miss much… Or did you?!”

“JOEL!”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you. You should be fine.”

Phil held a hand up to his forehead. He stood, trembling slightly, but not enough for Joel to notice and make fun of, and began pacing around the room. “I dunno about all this, Joel…”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

“I-I just don’t know if I can do this!” Phil said. He ceased his anxious pacing and swiveled to face Joel. His hands were now visibly quaking. “This is… I don’t know! The anticipation is just… It’s killing me, Joel!”

“Well you’re not dead yet, buddy,” Joel said. “And you’re gonna have to stuff it. Everyone gets the jitters the day before The Hunger Games, especially when they only just found out about it the day before that. Life isn’t fair. And life is short. And you take both of those cliches, and you put ‘em together, and you find that… Wow, things really suck. But maybe something good will come out of this after all. And I think that sometimes, that’s all you can hope for.”

“Joel?”

“Yeah, Phil?”

Phil sighed. “What the absolute hell are you talking about?!”

Joel stood up and walked over, laughing lightly. He placed his hands on both of Phil’s shoulders. “If you don’t get it now, you never will. Now get the hell back out there and make daddy proud.”

“I’d appreciate it if you never said that ever again.”

“I might not get the chance to,” Joel said. He chuckled again, but this time it sounded vaguely ominous.

Phil only looked at him curiously.

Joel stretched like a lazy cat, peering at Phil out of the corners of his eyes. “Now if you’re not gonna look at the forums with me, or if you don’t have any other dumb questions, I suggest you get going so you can get your last bit of training in. Go!”

Phil didn’t budge. “You know, I think I do have a question…”

“Sure.”

Phil looked embarrassed, and a little helpless for a moment. “What happens when we… Y’know…” Joel stared blankly at him. Phil sputtered, his face turning a soft shade of pink that matched his eyes. “Gosh, Joel! When we’re killed! When we die!”

Joel pretended to ponder this question for a moment before answering, “Well, you see Phil, that’s a deep philosophical question that every man dares to ask himself at least once in his life. But I’m a man of reason, though I do know that energy is not something that can be destroyed—”

“ _Joel_ , for God’s sake, I’m _obviously_ _talking_ about the games!!” 

Joel nodded sagely, cracking his knuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Calm down, buddy.” He immediately assumed a matter-of-fact tone. “You’re sent to Hell.” He didn’t wait for any intense reactions this would have incited from Phil in any other situation. “The simulation processes this as Hell because all the settings are the same from early on in the series, and then any other time we’ve used Hell as a gag. I’ve been working on it low key for a while, to make Hell actually _useful_. I mean, like I said, we’ve seen it a couple times in the series, but altogether it never really made sense. We kinda hung out there when we would die up until we could get back into the next episode and respawn or whatever, but it didn’t really _function_ anything like that. And it didn’t feel like that, it didn’t feel much at all like death. I wanted to be able to capture that exactly. Experience it for real. As close as humanly possible.”

Phil stammered helplessly for a moment, unable to fathom what he just said or think of a comeback. Then he shook his head. “Alright. Okay. I… I guess that’s better than just like… Purgatory, or whatever the hell. And we get to watch the rest of the games from there, right?”

Joel nodded. “You got it.”

“Hmm. Well, uh… Thanks, I guess,” Phil said. He rolled his eyes. “You know, as much as I can really thank you, since you’re the one doing this in the first place, or whatever. Uh. I guess I’ll go take a nap or something.”

“Aw, c’mon, Phil,” Joel said, returning to his seat at the desk and pushing the laptop screen back a little. “You’re telling me you don’t wanna take a peek at the forums though? Or at the stream chat, at least? A quick gander? I mean, the viewership has actually been steadily rising, if not for it’s infamy. I figure it’s mostly due to people’s anger. I mean, man, you were really right on the money Phil, you hit the damn nail on the head with your bout of self-righteousness and weird rambling about context and crap. The forums are _rife_ with our fans demanding to know why we’re doing this. I’m loving the hell out of it.”

Phil blinked. “Wait, we can watch the stream? Like, what’s being broadcast now?” he asked. “Is it everyone and everything, or is it just going between the different cameras?”

“You have the option of viewing everything, but most people prefer to just watch it shuffle through the different cameras,” Joel said. “Check it out.” 

He clicked around on his screen and pulled open a couple different windows. He minimized one showing every single camera, and their subsequent bloody goings-on, in favor of a stream window that was focused on Sasha engaging in a fist-fight with the Stomach King. Phil’s eyes widened comically at the sight, and Joel laughed. He pulled open the live chat that was going on beside the stream. 

“Pardon my French, but it’s kind of a shitshow,” Joel said. “And the main stream will be drawn to the most action-y type thing that’s going on, if there is one. Otherwise it’ll just kinda flick through periodically.”

“Is there a camera in here too, or…?” Phil asked, looking around fearfully. “Or is this like, some sorta control room?”

“No. And eh, of sorts. For today,” Joel said. “There will be a different place I’ll be able to check on periodically during lulls and all. But mostly for maintenance. I won’t really be able to much else, until I — well, _if_ I die. Only I will be able to spawn there, and I made it so that I can only do it for a limited amount of time, and then I’m forced back to where I was.”  
“Um… Huh.” Phil scratched his head. “Let me guess, that was also addressed in the meeting.”

“Aw, somebody’s learning.”

“Alright, Joel, so jeez… What else is everyone saying?” Phil asked. 

His eyes wandered to the chat, which was blowing up with people who had all sorts of opinions. He watched it for a moment. He couldn’t believe the discourse he was seeing, the vast array of opinions that people oscillated between. Of course, he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with the fickleness of the internet, and the extreme measures people went to in order to express their very wild opinions; however, this was to a scale he had never witnessed before, not for something he was actually apart of. Though the forums had always made him feel something one way or another, this was to a much bigger degree than he was used to. Before, he could say that he maybe being apart of Bonus Stage felt a little bigger than the smallest blip on the internet. 

But this… This actually felt like it was something.

“I can’t even believe that this is taking off,” Phil breathed. The idea was starting to make him nervous. He didn’t know what to do with it. “I mean, hell. I can’t even really believe that you wanted to actually participate in the first place, when you could just kick back and watch the carnage.”

Joel shrugged.“I mean, hell. Would be super boring to just watch for myself. I mean, I thought that our five viewers would hopefully just double to ten and everybody would get a huge kick out of it. But this is turning out to be even bigger than I could have imagined, and it hasn’t even properly started yet!”

Phil shuddered a bit. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Either way, maybe it was time for a stress-induced nap.

* * *

That night, Phil tried to think about literally anything else but the games; rather, he tried to spend the better half of his last free evening playing video games. In fact, he picked up the game he had been playing right before Joel had interrupted him with the infuriating conversation and proposition. The memory of it, however, soured the experience immediately, and he had to quickly put it down. With his hope of salvaging what was left of his night dwindling fast, and his next free night seeming further and further away, he felt depressed.

The worst part was he knew he had nothing to look forward to once it was all over. It would end, but it would never really end. Even without Bonus Stage, which was already fading into obscurity before his very eyes, he truly had nothing. He should have felt _something_ vaguely positive at the idea that Bonus Stage would have an end, and that it was coming sooner than he ever could have hoped. And if not that, he would like to think he would’ve been utterly apathetic toward the notion; instead, he couldn’t help but feel something stirred in him at the thought. Was it terror, to think that after all of this, he really would have nothing left? What was even next after this? He hated Bonus Stage, he loathed every second of it, but what did he have to go back to once it was all over? A crappy retail job, and no dating prospects? What was the point?

One thing was for sure, which was that he felt impossibly out of control of his life heading nowhere, a train that already had no clear destination in mind knocked off its track and careening into uncertain death.

Joel rapped on his doorframe, a hand held behind his back.

Startled, not at his sudden appearance, but at his politeness, Phil sat up. 

“Uh, hi,” Phil said. “You… Knocked. You actually knocked. And you’re… looking uncharacteristically sheepish. What’s going on?”

Phil eyed him suspiciously. He was questioning his motives now more than ever, although he couldn’t be sure that he’d ever really let his guard down too hard with Joel.

“You seem kinda stressed out,” Joel said. 

Phil kept staring at him. “You made a comment that was strangely empathetic. Why?”

“I just know this is really different from anything we’ve ever done. So it would make sense for you to feel that way.”

“What the hell is your point, Joel?” Phil asked, bitterly. 

There was no point in this sort of talk, especially not now. Tomorrow would change things, or maybe it wouldn’t, and maybe that was worse.

Joel gazed into Phil’s eyes. If Phil didn’t know any better, he might have felt as though Joel were trying to read him, _really_ read him _._

“You’re my best friend, Phil. And even though I obviously made it clear that I can’t rig the games in any way, I thought I could at least give you this,” Joel said.

Phil’s eyes widened as Joel revealed the hand that had been positioned carefully behind his back to show that he was holding out a red solo cup. Phil peered into it at the strange liquid. Though it didn’t look or smell like anything he had drank before, the mere sight of it made him raise an irritated eyebrow in Joel’s direction.

“Alcohol, huh? Real funny,” he deadpanned. He didn’t move to grab it.

Joel kept holding the cup out. He delicately shook it at him, just gentle enough so that it didn’t splash any of its contents out the sides. “Take it. C’mon.”

Phil still hesitated. Joel was being all too calculated for him to be any sort of comfortable. He asked, “How do I know this isn’t, like, poison? So you can get one last cheap shot in before the games?”

“Alcohol is already poison. More or less.”

Phil eyed him for a moment longer before warily taking the cup from his roommate’s hand. He sighed. “Okay. What the hell.”

It did not taste good. Phil choked it down, shuddering the entire way. But admittedly, it did have a nice burn that warmed him from the inside out. It had the relaxing quality of some of the nicer drinks he had had in the past. So if this really was poison, and if he was going to die like this, it might just be acceptable. 

Death in Bonus Stage had always felt so strange. Of course, it wasn’t as though he had a “real” death to compare it to. But “facing” it again now, in the Hunger Games… if it was anything like what he had already experienced here in the simulation many times over, he was not looking forward to it at all — especially if it was going to hurt more and be slightly more permanent. The anticipation, too, made it all the worse. At least in the weekly episodes, it was usually pretty random and undoubtedly quick. Not always painless, of course, but quick. 

“Now that’s being a good sport,” Joel said, grinning from ear to ear.

Phil stared at the empty cup. Had he really downed it that quickly?

“Really, though. Poison?” Joel continued, mostly talking to himself. “Poison you before the games to get one last cheap kill in huh? One last cheap shot? Is that what you think of me?”

“Right. Well, I mean, you might. Of _course_ I’m not putting that past you. But if this were poison, it’d taste better. Or would have killed me already. I think. Eh, none of us really have anything to lose, right?” Phil said, feeling weirdly buzzed, though he knew it had to only be a placebo effect.

Joel just kept smiling at him. It was a little unnerving.

“Hey, Joel. Is there more of this?” Phil asked tentatively, shaking the empty cup at him.

Joel laughed. “I don’t think it’d be wise to enter the games hungover. You’re going to want to have all your wits about you, I’ll tell you that much.”

Phil shook his head. “I guess I should’ve known better. I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, rest up, Phil. The games begin at noon.”

Joel left the room. Phil felt tired, but not abnormally so. All he knew was that if he died tonight in his sleep, via poison or otherwise, it wouldn’t make a damn difference.


End file.
